Je Ne Veux Pas Mourrir Toute Seule
by Aquaria Identity 07
Summary: There's a reason why Double D wears that hat, but just when he thought he could finally take it off, his world falls apart when he receives terrible news, forcing him to tell his friends the story behind his hat ... Light slash. Rated T for safety.
1. Intro

**Je Ne Veux Pas Mourrir Toute Seule**

**Summary:** There's a reason why Double D wears that hat, but just when he thought he could finally take it off, his world falls apart when he receives terrible news, forcing him to tell his friends the story behind his hat …

**A/N:** I had the idea for this fanfic a long time ago … as in, about last year, or the year before that. Don't get me wrong when I say that I have nothing else do – I thought that writing an "Ed, Edd 'n Eddy" fanfic would be a nice change from all the other fanfics I'm writing/stuck on.

So please enjoy what I have to offer, and I ask you to not leave any flames. The story will be told from Double D's POV, and there may be some light slash in the future. Oh yes, the title is a line from "Bloody Mary" by Lady Gaga. I advise you to translate the title in your own time and not tell anyone the translation or reveal it in your reviews. That's all I ask of you.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own "Ed, Edd 'n Eddy", or anything related to that or Cartoon Network. EE'nE belongs to His Genius, Danny Antonucci.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter 1: Intro<span>**

I can't sleep.

The mere idea of trying to sleep after what happened today is laughable – though I am not in the mood for laughing, not in the least – and the idea is quashed into oblivion. I hate self-pity as much as the next person (unless they are that way inclined), but if self-pity was a swimming pool I'd be swimming neck-deep in it.

Thus, I sit at my desk, wallowing in a boundless void of clemency, as well as looking at the view through my bedroom window all at the same time – Mother disapproves if I draw my curtains at night, claiming that doing so would be like sending out invitations to ruffians and sordid paedophiles alike to partake in either breaking into the house or contenting themselves by watching me as I sleep.

But I digress … or, to put it simply, I'm going off-topic. Bear with me, I'll try my absolute hardest to simplify my wide vocabulary - it isn't easy for a person such as myself to do so, but I'll try.

Life, in general, isn't easy. Take it from me, a gangling young adult who, lacking in dynamism for physical/athletic activities, makes up for said deficiency with his superior acumen (if I do say so myself) yet has to endure intense ridicule – as well as an infinite amount of inquiries regarding the inscrutability of his _chapeaux_ – from his contemptuous peers indefinitely.

(My apologies, I meant to say: an awkward teenager who has no interest in sports and brawny things, making up for this disinterest with his intelligence yet is constantly made fun of by the local (and scornful) kids all the time, the same kids who ask him countless questions regarding the mystery behind his hat.)

I sigh, a familiar lurching feeling becoming evident in my stomach. I look down from the view outside my window, resting my eyes on the desk's surface …

… on which lay my infamous hat.

That's right, _my hat_.

People who know me have never seen me without my hat on – I wear it everywhere everyday, and the kids have yet to see good ol' Double D hatless. I have been wearing the same hat ever since I was an minor – er, I mean, since I was a little boy – for as long as I can remember, long before I even moved to Peach Creek with my family. I have my reasons as to why I wear the hat, but I shall explain my reasons soon. So yes, no one has ever seen me without my hat., hence one of my many nicknames, "Sockhead". Of course, I have been without my hat on many occassions, albeit in privacy.

Or down by the creek on those stunning sunny days, bathing in the clean waters of the brook, feeling so carefree and relaxed for the first time in ages, and taking pleasure in the company of –

_Wait_! He doesn't know what happened today! Curse Destiny, Karma and Murphy's Law! If I tell him my news, he's going to hate me for sure. But, if I _don't _tell him, he'll find out anyway and he'll hate me even more. He'll think I'm a freak. That's how everyone reacts when someone they know is … you know.

_Oh dear, what will he think of me? What will _everyone _think of me once I tell them about what happened today?_

It was all so sudden, and all it did was make me feel so … melancholy.

I don't think I ever felt so alone in my life …

I stare at the hat, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. I can't – I _won't _– let myself cry. I have been down this road before, and I have walked out victorious. I cannot give up just yet.

You may be wondering to yourself, _what _did _happen that has made you so upset all of a sudden, Double D?_

My answer: quite a lot. I could clarify the matter right this moment, but that will mean I will have to not only explain what occurred hours earlier, but also what happened a few months ago, _four_ months to be precise. That is when the story began.

And naturally, the story begins with my hat.

For you see, exactly four months ago, I was standing in my bathroom and had taken off my hat, when I got the shock of my life.

In the mirror, I saw my reflection, but not only that, I saw something that I never thought I'd see:

On my head grew a lock of dark-brown _hair._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And thus concludes the first chappa of my first "Ed, Edd 'n Eddy" fanfic. I tried hard to keep Double D in character. I'm not sure if there are any stories like this, but either way I hope you enjoyed it. I'm not sure as to when I'll next update, but hopefully soon – I've kept readers for my others fics hanging for a long time, so I'm not making any promises. If there any spelling/grammar mistakes, tell me so that I write better the next time.

Reviews are welcome!

*~AI07~*


	2. Gone Today, Here Tomorrow

**Je Ne Veux Pas Mourrir Toute Seule**

**Chapter 2: Gone Today, Here Tomorrow**

It was one of those days, I suppose: another one of Eddy's "brilliant" scams blowing up in our faces once again. But you'd think after all these years that I would take necessary safety precautions and bring some spare clothes for this latest venture – now that I think of it, I don't exactly remember what the scam was, but I know for a fact that it involved Nutella – _lots_ of Nutella.

It went downhill from there, if you really want to know.

And the Nutella? _Everywhere_.

And myself? Perfectly fine.

Actually, no, I lie. I was practicallycovered_ head-to-toe _in the filthy stuff!

I went straight home, the disgusting chocolate spread dripping from my person as I trudged along, muttering under my breath. There was no need to worry about anyone seeing me – all the kids witnessed the humiliating flop as always, and there was laughter abound. Making my almost non-existent excuses to Ed and Eddy, I left immediately, thanking some Higher Power that at least the Nutella was good for one thing – disguising the blush that appeared on my face.

Retrieving clean clothes from my closet, I marched straight to the bathroom, and the fact that the chocolate spread dripped onto the floor did not matter to me at that moment – I planned to clean the floor later anyway, for Mother had asked me to do so during the week. Of course, the personal hygiene of a neat freak always comes first.

I peeled the dirty clothing from off my body – and took off my precious hat – and I was dismayed to find that the infernal stuff had somehow gotten smeared onto parts of my body other than my face. Why, even the top of my head was caked! It peeved me to no end, I can tell you that. _Curse Nutella and any products associated with the blasted name._

Grumbling continuously under my breath, I stepped into the shower, and soon I was reveling in the feeling of the water, fast-turning hot, falling upon me and washing away the nasty mud-like Nutella. Grumbling turned to humming as I washed myself thoroughly. Three or four minutes later and I was finished, clean and refreshed. Indeed, there is nothing like a relaxing shower to wash away not only the dirt, but also the stress, tension and other negative feelings.

Toweling myself dry and putting on my bathrobe, I took my hat into my hands and I made my way to the bathroom mirror so that I could adjust my hat when necessary if I didn't put it on straight enough. The mirrored surface was misted over, however, which galled me slightly: wiping the mirror when it was steamed left marks.

_Who needs you?_ I thought bitterly, pulling my hat on quite roughly. However, I had a feeling that my hat was skew, and that did not bode well with me. Neatness is an absolute necessity in my book (if only dear Ed knew that).

Tearing a piece of toilet paper from the roll, I wipe the mirror's surface clean. My sentiments proved to be correct – my hat was indeed at an odd angle, and that just would not do.

"Lovely," I griped, pulling off my hat.

And that's when I saw it.

At first I screamed, thinking that some kind of repulsive, fuzzy worm (or any insect related to the worm family) was protruding from the top of my head. In a blind panic, I began to swat at the thing, yet in the process of doing so I ended swatting myself in the face – twice.

_What in Sam Hill is this thing?_

I realized that this thing was just not going away, so – calmer now – I made myself look into the mirror to examine it.

It wasn't a worm, nor was it even an insect or a bug, much to my relief, but it was something that I had never expected to see in this lifetime ever again.

"H-h-hair?"

Hair. Pure and simple.

_My_ own lock of _hair_.

I was surprised and shocked … and speechless. Gently, I began to feel the lock of dark-brown hair with my free hand. It was soft to the touch despite the dampness. I began to tug it, making sure that it was mine and that it was still attached to my cranium. I felt a small twinge, confirming the fact that the lock of hair belonged to me.

_Belonged to me, belonged to me, belonged to me …_

The realization hit me harder this time, and as my eyes began to water with joy, I said aloud:

"My hair is growing back …"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **There are no excuses for not updating this story for such a long time. Except school. Education is important. (I'm not being sarcastic.)

I know it's rather a bit of an anti-climax and that I should have done better for this chapter after all this time, but it's the best that I can do. And the whole Nutella thing? I'm NOT a Nutella hater – I've been on a Nutella high for about two weeks now. :) I can just imagine Double D being a hater, and you know, he _is_ a neat-freak …

A special thank-you to all those who reviewed and faved this story, and for that I love you. :3 As usual, if there is anything wrong with the spelling or the grammar, please tell me.

Again, I can't promise as to when I'll next update, though the school term ends next week. Maybe then, but I still can't promise anything.

Reviews are welcome!

*~AI07~*


	3. Destiny's Child, Karma's Curse

**Je Ne Veux Pas Mourrir Toute Seule**

**Chapter 3: Destiny's Child, Karma's Curse**

_My hair is growing back!_

Ecstatic. Overwhelmed. Truly shocked beyond my senses.

These were just some (rather hackneyed) examples of the emotions I felt the more I repeated the remarkable affirmation:

_My hair is growing back!_

After rejoicing in this discovery, I immediately knew I had to tell someone – elating information like this was something I could not contain for long. The very people whom I wanted to enlighten of my discovery were not even present – Mother and Father are almost never at home because of the increasing demands of their jobs, and rarely do I ever see them. It has become arduous to the point that communication between my parents and myself occurs through sticky-notes, much to the amusement of my friends. Mind you, I do not condemn my parents for their absence, as their world does not revolve only around me. Of course, my parents do try to make the conscious effort to see me, efforts which I utterly appreciate. However, I do feel a sense of guilt whenever I am in their company, despite their admonishing me for feeling this way: my parents made so many sacrifices in their life, looking out for my best interests rather than their own. They had to face many hardships and disappointments, forced to miss opportunities that awaited them. They practically gave up their lives for the sake of my own.

_They even decided for us to move to Peach Creek because of me …_

As I sit here in a melancholy mood, thinking about all of this makes me wish I wasn't born, let alone the only child/burden of two wonderful people.

Therefore, I do my utmost to pay them back by completing domestic chores around the house – it's the least I can do, after all. My parents have tried to talk me out of doing this, seeing as they don't want me to overstrain myself, but their appeals came to nothing. When I put my mind to something, I never cease working at it, as they very well know. How do you suppose I became Peach Creek Junior High's most brilliant student?

So there I stood in the bathroom, slightly saddened that I could not tell my parents about my hair growing back. I cheered up almost immediately when a particular thought came to my head: _Why not tell Ed and Eddy? Who better to inform than my dearest friends?_

If not for Eddy's hare-brained scheme in the first place, I probably wouldn't have found the lock of hair until the next day. In fact, some things that occurred up until this moment in time would never have happened. I would never have gotten dressed so quickly – extremely excited in the meanwhile – nor would I have sprinted out my house to Eddy's home, holding tightly onto my hat and brimming with happiness.

Moreover, I probably would have never got to see Kevin, who happened to be riding along on his infamous bike that day.

Probably.

"Yo, Double D!"

I was midway to Eddy's house when I heard the familiar voice call my name. Stopping in my tracks, I looked around, and there he was: Kevin, the cool guy, the popular jock, not far behind me on his bike, without which he is never seen. To be perfectly honest, I didn't mind Kevin at all. We were on friendly terms with each other – unless I was in the company of Ed and Eddy, primarily Eddy. Otherwise, Kevin had no patience for us "dorks". It was understandable, though: to tolerate persons who have injured you and destroyed your bike many times in the past, you might as well have a death wish.

Kevin caught up to me, stopping his bike beside me. Balancing his bike with his weight, Kevin looked up from under his red cap, curiosity emanating from his eyes. "Where're you running off to so fast, Double D?" Scrutinising me even further, he added, "You look … I dunno, _happy_, man."

Curiosity transitioned into amusement. "Unless you just dodged those other dorks after what happened today, then I wouldn't blame you for being happy, dude!" he said, chuckling to himself.

I smiled politely in spite of myself – I wasn't about to let anyone or anything spoil my mood. "Actually, Kevin I'm on my way to Eddy's house right now. I've got something important to tell him, and Ed as well, if he's there."

"Important, huh?" muttered Kevin, looking at me with interest and … _apprehension_? "Anything the matter, bro?"

If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn that I heard a hint of unmitigated concern in the tone of his voice. This was surprising, considering that this enquiry regarding my well-being came from a person who was higher up on the social ladder.

Recovering from my initial surprise, I regained my voice and replied, "There's nothing to worry about. I am perfectly fine, mentally and physically. In fact, this may be the best day of my life!" I virtually screamed in delight as I said this last part.

Kevin leaned back in reaction to my exclamation, smiling uneasily. "Uh, okay. That's cool, I guess."

He paused, before asking me, "What's up? That's if you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all, Kevin," I said, waving my hand dismissively. "It's just that I made a particularly astonishing finding today." I shuffled my feet, feeling demure all of a sudden. "Of course, it may not sound that exciting to you when I tell you, but for me it's the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

"Hey, it _could _sound cool to me," replied Kevin immediately. "I mean, it sounds quite cool now, the way you go on about it and all, you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I suppose I do," was all I could say to his repetitions.

"Cool," Kevin said, giving me his undivided attention. "Lay it on me, Double D."

Taking in a deep breath, I was ready to relay my news to Kevin, to express my glee, to tell him what this meant for me and what it will mean to my parents after all we went through –

"Hey, Sockhead! What're you yapping to Shovel-Chin for?!"

"Oh, Double D!"

And there they were. My two best friends, who were standing outside Eddy's house and looking in my direction. They flapped their arms and waved, attempting to lure me out of Kevin's presence.

I turned back to Kevin, offering him an apologetic smile. "I think I'd better be off before they _really _get aggressive."

"The only thing they're really getting is dorkier," replied Kevin, rolling his eyes.

"DOUBLE D! DOUBLE D!"

"Coming, gentlemen," I called out to them. Turning back to Kevin, I said, "If you're still interested, Kevin, I could perhaps tell you my news later."

Kevin shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, if you want to. I'll be down by the creek, around 3. Wanna meet me there?"

At this point, I felt my face grow incredibly warm at the sound of Kevin's unexpected proposal. _Perhaps the summer heat is getting to me, _I said to myself, but I didn't believe that at all.

"Uh, of course, that would be … nice," I said before I could stop myself. I was utterly surprised with myself: _did I _really_ just accept Kevin's invitation? And did I _really _use the word "nice" in a sentence?! How unthinkable! My English teacher would be appalled!_

Kevin smiled. "Cool. It's a date, then."

I stared at him, beads of sweat appearing. "A d-d-_date_?" I stuttered. "You mean –?"

"Not _that_ kinda date," interjected Kevin hastily, looking slightly flustered. "You know, like, when girls get together with their girlfriends and stuff. Girls' day out, that kinda thing. So, this is, like, uh …a guys' day out."

"I see."

There was a small pause, before Kevin suddenly said, "I gotta split, Double D. I'll see you by the creek later – only if you want to, obviously. Seeya!"

With that, Kevin manoeuvred his bike and pedalled furiously away in the opposite direction before I could say anything. Instead, I watched after him until he was out of sight, unaware that Ed and Eddy were making their way towards me, calling my name to get my attention.

The fact that Kevin asked me to hang out with him made me temporarily forget my news.

If I had it had occurred to me, while I was standing there, that I'd be spending more time with Kevin in the future, I would have cried in that spot for all my worth.

Who knew that, by gradually becoming closer to Kevin than never before, I was setting us up both for a tremendous amount of pain?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Finally, Chapter 3 is up! YAY! It's short and boring, I know, but bear with me for a bit longer. I would write a longer note and a longer chappa, but I must go off to bed now, so any extra info that I have will be added in the next chapter, I promise. I just want to say, though, that I thank all of you who have reviewed, faved and/or followed this story! :)

Hope you enjoyed it!

Reviews are welcome!

*~AI07~* ;)


	4. Friends Like Mine Make Enemies Divine

**Je Ne Veux Pas Mourrir Toute Seule**

**Chapter 4: Friends Like Mine Make Enemies Divine**

Please excuse me: I must admit that I am getting overly dramatic. Although this specific event occurred only four months ago, it's vivid to the point that it feels as if it only happened yesterday.

Now, however, _now_ I wish it never happened at all. If not that, I wish there was a way to change at least _one _aspect of the darn thing. Of course, that will never happen for as long as I live –

_Oh dear, why do I think about things like this? Why do I torment myself with such thoughts?_

There I go again, rambling as always when I am practically at my wits' end and thus losing my train of thought. I beg your pardon: I am a little tired and emotionally drained. You will understand when all has been explained.

Then I suppose I had better get on with my story, correct? Bear with me, there is plenty of time: by the time I am finished, another dawn will grace us with its presence, the rays of the morning sun peeking in through my window with benign intent.

Sometimes I wonder if the light, ever constant and ubiquitous, is my only friend now …

* * *

><p>"So what was Jughead the Jock jabbering to you about, huh?"<p>

"Oh, nothing of importance, I can assure you."

Eddy scrutinised me, looking up at me with a scowl and a sparkle of suspicion shining conspicuously in his eyes. "Good, 'cause he's the last guy I want to see after what happened today. Man, I feel like punching someone in the face right now …"

"Not for me, Eddy – I'm driving," said Ed, grinning good-naturedly with a familiar vacant look in his eyes.

* * *

><p>A word about my friends at this point: let it be known that behind their seemingly (<em>ahem<em>) simple appearances (and, uh, personalities), there lies a cunning mind and … a not-so-cunning mind, respectively (though Ed's Herculean strength more than made up for this slight).

When I moved to Peach Creek at a very young age, Ed and Eddy became my friends. Even then, young Eddy displayed an astute, scheming mind for business, and that infantile Ed demonstrated god-like brawn (without a god-like brain to match). It just so happened that, on the day that I decided to venture out into the neighbourhood for the first time to meet some of the children and potentially make some new friends, Ed and Eddy were in the middle of a scam – something to do with Ed swallowing a television, as far as I can remember. Despite the sketchy details of this scam, I was, then, very curious about how this could be scientifically – and humanly – possible (from a young age, I already had an interest in the wonders of science).

Therefore, I willingly coughed up money to Eddy and watched the spectacle unfold.

And from that day onwards, I developed mysophobia, in that I have a pathological fear of germs and contamination (seeing Eddy being exposed to Ed's mouth is enough to convert any unsanitary persons into clean-freaks).

In addition, not only did I become friends with Ed and Eddy and form part of Eddy's many plans to attain money in order to purchase mouth-watering jawbreakers, but also I almost always end up seeing the scams failing.

_Almost_ always? Even _I'm _being too kind to myself.

However, I digress from the point.

To make a long story short, Eddy is usually volatile at the inevitable failures of our schemes – basically, Eddy is _fuming_, extremely livid when his plans do not come together. Every so often, Ed and I are at the receiving end of his temper tantrums. I repeatedly question my tolerance towards him; lovable Ed is perpetually without care, living in an invisible bubble of happy-go-lucky contentment (lacking in proper hygiene, of course).

Yet, they are among my dearest friends.

_Egad, I'm being kind to myself again._

They are my _only _friends.

By associating with them – the no-good, scheming Eds, with whom I share the same name – I have literally alienated myself from the other kids in the neighbourhood. I am an outcast, and coupled with my neurotic cleaning habits and the mystery behind my hat, I seem even stranger. Mother and Father do not know of my current social status among the children: I felt that it did not concern them. That, and I didn't want to worry them in any way.

I sigh. The "children" of Peach Creek are no longer "children", so it does feel rather silly to call them that, even if there are one or two persons who have not exactly (_ahem_) matured. We have all grown up somewhat. The kids have changed in appearance to an extent, and they are slightly wiser than they were in their youth. I have reached the tender age of 15, and I have noticed many bodily … uh, _changes_, if you know what I mean.

Let us just say that good ol' Double D is no longer the gangly lad he used to be.

_Oh dear, curse my sad excuse for an attempt at humour._

My apologies – that was a lame effort at wit, disgusting as it was. I have only succeeded in embarrassing myself. Nevertheless, you get the idea … hopefully.

Again, I digress. I shall now return to the subject of my friends, who are also at the same age as me, just so by the way.

Yet despite the physical changes that the years have granted unto them, their personalities are the same as ever …

_So would they be able to able to handle the horrific news that I had received only a few minutes ago?_

* * *

><p>Eddy glared at Ed. "You'll be in traction if you don't shut your yap, Ed!"<p>

"'Traction?' Where's that, Eddy?" asked Eddy, looking confused. "Is it far?"

"Not too far from YOUR FACE!" hissed Eddy in response.

Sighing, I interjected. "Eddy, please – first of all, that remark does not make any sense whatsoever. Secondly, you're making a scene for nothing. You had a rough day, I know, but that's no reason to have a temper tantrum. You have to calm down and take it in your stride."

It was pointless to have said that last part, for Eddy never learns from his mistakes.

_Ever._

As expected, Eddy dismissed my interjection with a wave of his hand. "Yeah, whatever. I can be angry if I want to, Double D, so there."

"Very well, Eddy," I replied, sighing. "I only say what I have to say because I'm looking out for you in your best interests."

"Why, did Eddy's best interests go missing, Double D?" said Ed, looking around in a frantic manner. "Are _they_ in Traction?"

"Ed …" I groaned.

"And you wonder why I'm angry all the time," Eddy said, rolling his eyes in Ed's direction.

Ed only grinned in response, beaming with delight. His beam of a smile reminded me about why I was here.

"Speaking of best interests, gentlemen, I have some important news to tell you –" I started, but Eddy cut me off.

"But hey! I'm willing to forgive and forget." He put his arm around me in what was supposed to be a friendly gesture, and I received a full-view display of his teeth. "We were just going over to my house to make some pizza and to pick you up on the way. Seeing Kevin just made me mad, that's all, though not for long."

Eddy whispered the last part in a conspiratorial tone, looking around to see if Kevin was in sight.

I tried again. "That's great, Eddy, but I have something to –"

"Pizza, Double D!" Ed exclaimed, pulling Eddy and I into a tight hug that took the wind out of me (Ed, as I am sure you're aware by now due to my comments, is a strong lad, and his strength increases as the years go by – much to my chagrin at times). "With cheese and pineapple and anchovies and chocolate sprinkles and marshmallow bits with a dash of mayo. Yum!"

"That's, uh, _nice_, Ed, but I really _do _have something –"

"Save it for later, Sockhead, we got plenty of time to talk AFTER we make the pizzas!" Eddy said, freeing himself from Ed's grip. "Come on! Those pizzas aren't gonna make themselves, you know!"

"Uh, actually, Eddy, I was on my way to the store to get some groceries for Mother – she left a sticky-note in the kitchen to remind me, you know how it is," I muttered, suddenly downcast. I managed to get free of Ed's embrace, and I patted myself down. "You can start making the pizzas in the mean-time. After all, what with the Nutella incident today, pizza-making will be a bit of a messy business …"

"Whatever, Double D, works for me," said Eddy, shrugging. "You'll be missing out, but what the heck."

"I'll save you a slice, Double D!" Ed chirped in with a grin.

"Idiot, we're only gonna _eat _it when Double D shows up!" Eddy responded, throwing his hands up in the air. He looked up at me. "Be at my house in an hour before Edzilla eats the damn pizza dough before we even bake it."

"Eddy, don't use language like that in front of Ed," I chastised.

"It's okay, Double D," said Ed good-naturedly. "You're lucky you didn't hear Eddy earlier after you left." Then he sang, "'What starts with F, and ends with -UCK, I want to ride my fire truck'!"

"Eddy!" I exclaimed, turning on Eddy. "Did you say the f-word?!"

"Uh …"

"In front of ED!?"

Eddy shrugged his shoulders. "What's the big deal? I only said it once."

"_In front of ED!_"

"What? It's only _Ed_."

"Who is liable to repeat it in front of people! Think of the children, Eddy!"

"Double D, those twerps aren't "children" anymore."

A slight pause.

"Alright. Think of Jimmy, Eddy!"

"Jimmy hangs around Sarah, he's used to hearing stuff like that," Eddy replied, again dismissing everything I said with an infuriating sweep of his hand. "Just make sure you turn up at my house in an hour. Then we can hear what you got to say, 'cause right now I'm starving."

Biting my lip, I said, "Alright, I'll see you then."

Before I could dare to say anything else, Eddy was dragging Ed by the collar of his shabby jacket towards his house, leaving me – once again – alone.

With friends like Ed and Eddy, you have to admit that even Sarah would make better company than those two.

Sighing, I brought my wristwatch into view to look at the time. My wristwatch was almost new, given to me by my parents as a gift for my outstanding achievements at school. It was shock-absorbent, waterproof and apparently Nutella-proof, thank the Lord.

Glancing down at the time, I could see that it was nearing 2 PM.

_2 PM!_

Eddy expected me to be at his house in an hour's time.

_3 PM!_

Kevin was expecting me at the creek around that time.

_Oh dear _…

I was conflicted, of course. Kevin was certainly not my closest friend, but at least he was amiable and an engaging person to converse with (when he chose his words carefully). After all, he extended an invitation to join him at the creek prior to my meeting with my friends, and he really _did _seem interested in my news. I had agreed to come, and I could not _possibly_ go back on my word.

On the other side of the coin, Ed and Eddy were my good friends, and I wanted to reveal the news regarding the growth of my hair _because _of this fact. However, they did not let me give them the chance to tell them, and this disheartened me. After all we went through today, I expected them to hear what I had to say, at the very least. In a way, I suppose, they were making it up to me by inviting me to Eddy's house for a pizza-making session. For that too, I had agreed to come, and I could not _possibly _go back on my word.

I looked in the direction in which Kevin had left. Down an unfamiliar yet seemingly harmless path if I were to join Kevin at the creek

I looked in the direction in which Ed and Eddy had left, leading to his house. Down a familiar yet rocky path if I were to join my friends.

.

.

.

_Curse Kevin if he expects me to swim in the creek just after I had a shower…_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Golly gee, an update at last! And a day before New Year's Eve, too! Such random timing, do I have. ^3^ Compliments of the season to you all!

Grade 11 is finally over for me, so I have been working part-time at a toy-store and as a volunteer Puppy Trainer's Assistant for the last few months (though I only started the job in October), so I've been pretty busy. However, due to the great response out there to this little fanfic of mine, I just had to write another chappa.

I must admit, I did not expect this chapter to be so EPICALLY long, but you know how Double D is – a big thinker. I do hope you guys out there think that I'm staying true to his character. I know I'm being vague 'bout why he's melancholy, but it's sort of the point (you gotta admit, though, you just want to hug Double D because of his troubles, the poor dear). :) The worst part, I think of this chappa, is writing the parts involving Ed and Eddy. For one thing, to write their dialogues whilst staying true to their characters was difficult, in that I tried not make Eddy seem too hackneyed as a jerk and not make Ed too much of a simpleton. The only thing about the dialogue of his that I actually like is the "Traction" thing, which was lame. Geez …:)

And yes, the Eds are 15 years of age. As you can see, Eddy has developed colourful language indeed (and Sarah has too, by the sound of it, heh heh). He's still a short little bugger, though. *shrug* Double D sounds positively MANLY, don't you think? ;)

To my readers out there and to those who just pop in to have a look, I would like to extend my thanks. The reviews, the faves, the alerts … it's unbelievable. The response was unexpected, and it is appreciated. Thank you so much. I will try to actually answer the reviews this time ... ^-^;;

Enjoy what is left of 2012 (to those who expected the world to end along with this fanfic, you needn't worry anymore), and please be safe on your travels. Have a happy new year, and I'll see you next year!

*~AI07~* ;)


	5. Up The Creek Without A Paddle

**J****e Ne Veux Pas Mourrir Toute Seule**

**Chapter 5: Up The Creek Without A Paddle**

_3 PM_.

The summer sun was at its peak, its searing rays so intense that even I sweltered in my rather light T-shirt. I broke out in a slight sweat, much to my vexation – I'm sure you would be aggravated too, if you just had a shower not too long ago. Nevertheless, I ignored the feeling as I made my way closer to the swimming hole, which was a subdivision of the creek and, luckily for unfit persons such as yours truly, not too far from the cul-de-sac.

To be entirely candid with you, I never did enjoy bathing at the swimming hole. I was not fanatical about swimming in public, where I was under the scrutiny of my peers. In fact, I despised swimming in general. Because of the grueling Physical Education system at our illustrious educational institution (ie. our school), I developed an unhealthy disrespect for the aquatic sport. Of course, when it came to the question "What shall we do today?" I had no say in the matter: Eddy would haul Ed and me to the swimming hole without hearing what we had to say. Memories of our many adventures at the swimming hole are anything _but _my "fondest".

These days, however, I think of the swimming hole and the creek with a kind of affection, if you will.

_I have one person to thank for that._

A splashing noise sounded as I got nearer to the swimming hole, interrupting my thoughts and curses regarding the scorching weather conditions that Mother Nature inconsiderately granted unto us on that very day.

_That must be Kevin, _I thought somberly.

The sound of the water continuously being disturbed by fervent splashes became more and more voluble as I gradually came closer. The more I heard the splashes becoming louder, the more I was boiling in my shirt. For a moment, I indulged in the thought of removing my shirt, but I decided against it – I admit, I felt self-conscious. To remind you again, I despised swimming in public, and to expose my body in front of people makes me flustered more than anything else does.

_Besides, I think I've had quite enough humiliation today, thank you very much,_ I thought resolutely.

The moment that thought entered my mind, the swimming hole came into view. The ground beneath my feet was no longer green grass but now a sandy beach-like texture. A tall grey-faced cliff, unlike its dignified and somewhat larger English counterpart that is the cliffs of Dover, towered over the swimming hole, casting a shadow over a small area of the ground. In this area, attractive to the eyes of one who desired shelter from the hellish heat, I could see a few objects lying here and there: a white towel, an empty soda can and a pile of clothing, folded ever so neatly with care. On top of the clothing laid a red cap.

_Kevin. _

_Duh, Double D. Who else?_

Upon this observation, I turned my attention to the water. Walking towards the shore, I could not see Kevin at all. The ocean-blue surface of the water was riddled with a myriad of ripples, having been disturbed for quite some time.

On closer inspection, I noticed a dark shadow lurking underneath the water, very near to me. I was practically squinting, trying to distinguish what it was I was seeing.

Suddenly, Kevin himself broke through the water's surface, he who was that shadow in the deep. Not only did he sate my curiousity, but also he almost gave me a heart attack for scaring me like that.

"Good Lord!" I exclaimed involuntarily, jumping back a bit. "Gracious, Kevin, you gave me quite a scare!"

Knee-deep in the water, with water dripping from his person, Kevin became aware of me. His light-green eyes met mine, and a small smile tugged at his lips (_or did I imagine that?_). Running a hand through his damp, brunette hair – he had let it grow over the years – he said, "Hey, Double D! Didn't mean to scare you, bro. You okay, man?"

Regaining my composure, I replied, "Yes, I'm fine now." I felt sheepish all of a sudden as I said, "It was childish of me to react in such a way: after all, it was only _you _and I was not in any sort of danger even though I didn't know it _was _you at the time, so I –"

"_Alright_, Double D, I get it," said Kevin with a chuckle as he held up his hands, putting a stop to my tangent (making me feel even _more _sheepish, though I did not understand why I was feeling like this in front of Kevin). "Anyway, I'm glad you decided to come on by. I thought Eddy wasn't gonna let you anywhere near me."

"You needn't worry about Eddy," I replied, inwardly ill at the thought of Eddy, who would no doubt wonder where in Sam Hill I was instead of being at his house for his pizza party and would most DEFINTELY be angry if he found out where I _really _was.

Shaking this thought off, I continued: "After all, you invited me down here prior to my meeting with Ed and Eddy, and it would have been ill-mannered to have not come. They'll just have to accept that I'm not there with them now, and so, here I am, Kevin, right on time to boot."

"Hardcore," said Kevin with wide eyes, impressed.

And, there again, my face began to grow warm. _What is the matter with me?! _I screamed on the inside. Fearing that my face had turned red, I promptly turned my eyes downwards, staring at the sandy ground with shame and confusion.

I could hear splashes, the water breaking as something moved towards me. Perplexed, I looked up, and nearly shrieked aloud. Kevin was standing before me, his body a few mere inches away from my body, so much so that I could make out the many water-droplets that ran down his skin, and his face quite close to mine. A smile, a _definite_ smile, graced his lips, and his light-green eyes glittered.

_I could almost reach out and touch his face –_

_Wait, what?!_

_What am I thinking?!_

"Kevin …?" I squeaked, wilting under his gaze.

"What are you standing there for, Double D?" he answered, stepping back a little into the water. "Come on!"

"I'm sorry?"

"The water, man!" Kevin said, gesturing around the water that surrounded him. "It's great! You gonna get in, or what?"

I did a double take. _He wants me to _swim_?!_

"Kevin? Me, _swim_?" I managed to reply, reduced to a simple vocabulary.

Kevin rolled his eyes. "Duh, Double D! Guys' day out, remember? You _did_ bring a pair of trunks, right?"

Before I could even answer, before I could tell him that I just had a shower after this morning's humiliation and that swimming meant I would have to shower _again _and risk the hot water running out at my house, Kevin suddenly grabbed my arm, saying something about that I must be wearing my costume underneath, and – with little effort needed and a yell from me – he pulled me into the watery depths.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself beneath the water's surface, waving my arms like a mad person as I tried to remember my strokes, and cursing, bubbles pouring forth from my mouth, and the water entering my mouth and running down my throat.

That, and I was sinking like a stone.

_Curse my luck._

* * *

><p>Alright, you might be thinking right about now that I was over-reacting and being melodramatic. After all, Kevin only pulled me into the water, and it was not at all deep – in fact, we were on the shore, so it couldn't have been any shallower than that. Why did I panic at all if I wasn't going to drown?<p>

But then, you must realise, I wasn't terrified that I was about to die.

At that crucial moment, I was terrified to let Kevin see me, without warning, before I could tell him my news, without my hat.

_To see my hidden shame …_

* * *

><p>Hands grabbed my shoulders, pulling me towards the surface, towards precious oxygen.<p>

I broke through the surface, gasping for air and coughing, expelling water from my mouth. My clothes, soaked beyond words, felt heavy as they clinged to my frame – even my waterproof wristwatch barely seemed to hang onto my wrist. I rubbed my face, wiping the water out of my eyes, and I automatically reached up to adjust my hat –

I stopped.

_Where is my hat?_

Then my heart stopped.

_Where is my hat?_

Then my world suddenly _stopped._

_Where is my HAT?!_

Looking up, my breathing harsh and full of terror, Kevin stood before me, his eyes wide open and his mouth parted, surprise, confusion and shock clearly on his face. In his hands –

_Oh no … no …_

His hands, which had been previously on my shoulders as he rescued me from a watery death, were now holding limply onto something, which was beyond drenched and looking pathetic …

I wanted to turn away and drop dead.

_My hat._

I had to muster up all of my remaining courage to turn my gaze from my hat to Kevin. When I did, it was what I expected to see.

_Kevin, looking at my unsightly, _**bald **_head, hairless save for the lonely lock of dark hair that I discovered that morning, in a way that I could not bear._

"Double D …" he finally whispered, without tearing his gaze from my head.

_I couldn't._

How I struggled to blink back my tears that threatened to fall; how I strode forth and, crimson-faced and with dignity stripped away, wrenched my hat away from Kevin's hands. Without even a second look, I turned from him, feeling the tears rolling down my cheeks and burning my skin. I did not turn back as Kevin, who became alive, called, "Double D! Wait! I'm sorry! Double D, _please _wait!"

I did not turn as he stumbled behind me, trying to draw my attention.

I did not turn when I felt his hand touch my shoulder, his breath on my skin as he said right into my ear, "Double D, stop! Don't go!"

I did not _even_ turn as I broke into a run, clumsily pulling my hat over my head, running away from him.

As I ran further away from the swimming-hole, I could hear Kevin shouting, hollering, _pleading_, or did I imagine that?

_But either way, I did not turn back to look._

_I couldn't, I couldn't …_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **And there it is, dear readers: underneath dear Double D's hat is an intelligent, **bald **head, something that has been a secret for a long time, which has FINALLY come out. I am a terrible human being, I know, for a) not updating in a long time and b) making Double D upset. For some of you out there, it may not seem like a big deal that he has no hair, but it definitely means a big deal for DD. Why? All in due time, darlings, his woes are not yet over …

School, applying for different colleges, driving … they take up WAY too much of my time, but it is such a pleasure to open my email and see all the reviews, alerts and faves. 69 follows so far is HUGE! I LOVE YOU GUYS! 3

Reviews are welcome!

*~AI07~* ;)


	6. Questions and Answers

**Je Ne Veux Pas Mourrir Toute Seule**

**Chapter 6: Questions and Answers**

If I hadn't wiped away the tears that blurred my vision, I probably would have blindly passed the cul-de-sac and my house, and I probably would have run away from Peach Creek altogether. That thought did not enter my mind, though I would have considered it if it did, because at that moment, I wanted to be far away. I did not wish to encounter anyone nor did I want people to question my current state of mind, or that I was, in all honesty, quite a mess – my drenched clothing felt heavy and very uncomfortable. No doubt, my appearance would raise eyebrows and encourage inquiring regarding my condition – which I knew I was unable to give a response.

_How would you explain to someone that the reason you are upset is that someone saw you without your hat on?_

All at once, the images flicker in my head in the same sequence: _bursting for air after a near-death experience; realizing my hat is no longer on my head; Kevin, looking at me with shock at my bald head, all the while holding my hat in his hands; grabbing my hat out of his hands; Kevin, trying to get my attention, calling, "Double D, Double D, wait …_"

I practically wrenched off the handle on the front door of my house, desperate to get inside and retreat to the safety of my bedroom before anybody could catch a glimpse of me. So distressed was I, that I did not take the time to lock the door once I had entered. Without pause, I made my way to my bedroom, the water droplets falling to the floor, mingling with the Nutella that had fallen onto the floor earlier that day (_Two humiliating incidents in a single day – a new personal best, _I thought acrimoniously). It gave me only small satisfaction to slam the door of my _sanctum sanctorum _shut, putting up a protective barrier between the world and I.

With a shaky sigh, I rubbed my face again, wiping away the fresh tears that made themselves present, before peeling off my wet clothing – and my hat. If it had been in any circumstances, I would have probably gone to the bathroom to take a second shower, or to wash my face at least, but I felt so secure in my room, and I dared not even leave it, not even for the sake of cleaning myself up.

Opening the door of my cupboard, I searched for a decent pair of pants and a loose shirt, continuously telling myself to relax and not dwell on today's events, but I remained somewhat unsettled – as I rummaged on the middle-shelf for a clean pair of underwear, in the corner of my eye I could see my reflection in the full-length mirror that hung on the inside of the cupboard-door. I paused in my search, studying my mirror image with a quivering lip, dismayed at what I saw.

_My, don't I look half a mess._

My olive-green eyes were puffy and red, with minuscule teardrops hanging off my lashes. My face, having become slightly narrower as I have matured, was pale, the skin pulled tight across the bones, and cool to the touch. In fact, my entire body was cold - but then, I had yet to put any clothing on. After attaining some self-confidence over the years, I was proud to say that I wasn't ashamed of my body. Unlike, say, Rolf or Ed, I was not muscular, but I wasn't scrawny like I used to be. Puberty has bestowed unto me a lean physique, with a few muscles thrown in. Now, my back was hunched with humiliation as I cursed myself inwardly for not possessing a strong, strapping, _healthy _body.

_I've endured so much, even as a youngster, _I cursed to some Higher Power. _What have I done to deserve your ire? Why haven't you healed me? Why can't I achieve some form of normality at last?_

Obviously, I did not expect an answer from God, Allah, Buddha or whoever in Sam Hill presided over this cruel world, but the moment I focused my attention on my head – surveying the dark-brown lock of hair hanging off there – the answer was self-explanatory.

**This **_is my second chance – I _**am**_ being healed at last. I am on my way to being normal._

_Your reward, Double D, for all your misery …_

I shook my head, sighing sadly. _In the meantime, Double D, continue to be miserable and let the whole world see your bald head whilst they still can, so that they can have a good ol' laugh at your expense._

_Example #1: Kevin, who is no doubt _disgusted_ at what he saw …_

Fighting off the burning sensation of tears threatening to fall, I get dressed quickly, no longer wanting to look at my reflection. Before I could close the cupboard door, I picked up my precious hat from off a small table. With concentration, I placed the dampish hat onto my head, adjusting it to cover my hidden shame entirely.

_This time, I am _not_ going to let the hat out of my sight._

I looked up into the mirror again, to make sure that my hat was on straight …

… _to find my bedroom-door opening, and Kevin standing in the doorway._

I flung myself around, my face fast-turning a shade of crimson as Kevin and I came face-to-face, the question "_What the heck is Kevin doing here?_" etched in my mind.

I couldn't believe it: there he was, standing not too far away, _in my room, in my _**house**. His hair was dripping-wet. Indeed, his whole person was quite sodden. He was still wearing his swimming trunks. He had thrown on a shirt and sneakers without thinking, and his cap was at an odd angle. Water droplets were visible on his skin. His eyes were wet with creek-water, rather than tears of sadness like me …

"Kevin," I finally said, barely above a whisper, "what are you doing here?"

He blinked, a droplet falling. "I came to find you. Obviously. I kinda figured you'd be here, since it's your house and all."

"B-b-but how did you get in?" I said, finding my voice.

"Your front door was unlocked," Kevin replied quietly. "I thought you would bolt it or something, but since it was unlocked, I let myself in so we could have," he paused, before closing the door behind him, "a proper talk …"

Suddenly, I remembered that I failed to lock the door because of my distress earlier, and I inwardly cursed myself.

Kevin continued, taking a step forward, his eyes betraying some sort of concern and … _shame_? "Double D, what happened today was–"

"Please, Kevin, you don't have to remind me how mortifying it was and how revolted you were, so could you please leave at once?" How surprised I was to discover that those words were coming out of _my _mouth – however, I was so overcome with emotion, I continued to speak in this way. "There is nothing to talk about, I can assure you, now please leave me be."

"I didn't feel that way at all, Double D," Kevin replied, shaking his head, edging forward slowly. "Sure, it surprised me at first, but you shouldn't feel bad about it. _I'm_ the one feeling guilty here."

He shuffled his feet. "If I'd have known about the head-thing before, man, I wouldn't have done what I did to you. I'm sorry, really, I am. It isn't cool to see you like this, upset and all. It's got me worried, and now with this head-thing, I can see you're worried about it. If you tell me what happened –"

"The issue about my "head-thing" does not concern you,' I cut in sharply.

"It does, now that I've seen it," he retorted, equally as sharp. "You've been quiet about it for what, years? Suddenly, with one slip of the hat, it's all out in the open. How can it _not_ concern me? How can I not ignore it when this is clearly upsetting you? I'm your friend, Double D, and I'm not the kind of guy to stand back and pretend nothing's happened. That's why I ran after you, calling to you to come back so that we could talk –"

"Just so you can ogle at my head and express your repulsion?" I said lowly.

"You're putting words into my mouth," Kevin said, narrowing is eyes, coming closer. "I _never_ felt that way. I was shocked, that's all," he gestured towards my head, "and all I wanted was an answer, about how _that_ happened –"

"I'd rather not relive my wretchedness, thank you very much," I said suddenly, stepping forward with furious calmness. "So, I'd appreciate if you get of my house **now**, Kevin."

"Why are you avoiding the subject, Double D?" Kevin exclaimed, grasping me by the shoulders, shaking me a bit. His eyes were on fire with rage. "Why don't you want to tell me? Why are you so **freaking **intent on hiding your **bald** head under that hat? Huh? _Why, Double D_?"

"Oh, _why can't I be left in peace?!_" I cried finally, wrenching myself away from his grip.

Turning my back on him, shattered beyond comprehension, I threw myself onto my bed, bursting into a flood of tears. My whole body was wracked with sobs, quaking as I wailed uncontrollably. I buried my face in my pillow, my tears soaking the padding. With every breath, I let out a howl of despair, each one louder than the next, the noise filling my room and echoing around me.

I was overcome with anguish, so much so that I was unaware that Kevin, his rage transforming into apprehension, had sat himself down on the side of my bed, placing a hand on my back and rubbing it up and down in an attempt to comfort me. I only became aware of his actions the moment I heard his voice breaking through the echo, saying quietly, "Let it out, Double D, just let it all out …"

I quieted down, still crying, sniffing and moaning sadly, whilst Kevin continued to rub along my back, his soothing voice offering words of much-needed comfort. He eased the tension out of my shoulders, my neck and overall my back, thus I was much calmer physically. Mentally, I was feeling like a wreck, if you will.

Taking a few deep breaths, I let myself sit up, albeit gradually, supporting my weight on my hands. I dared to look up at Kevin.

He had stopped rubbing my back now. With his hands in his lap, he looked down at me, a small smile on his lips. His eyes were no longer aflame, instead now cool with relief.

"Feeling better?" he asked, tentatively.

I gave him one, single nod.

"Stopped crying now?"

Another nod.

"Oops, there go some tears," he said quietly, reaching out and gently wiping away the aforementioned tears with his fingers. My skin grew hot at his touch, fortunately after he drew his hands away.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you like that," Kevin said, adjusting his cap nervously. "I shouldn't have done that to you."

"No, Kevin, I should apologise to you," I said, shaking my head. "I shouldn't have pushed your buttons like that. I was being discourteous and impossible to deal with. I was making an ass of myself, if you will."

"Apology accepted," he said, nodding.

A small silence.

Kevin cleared his throat. "Do you want me to go?"

I did not answer, looking down at my lap.

He sighed. "Alright, be seeing you …"

Kevin started to get up, but I reached out and grabbed his arm, causing him to stop.

"No, wait," I said quietly, staring right into his eyes. "You can stay. I'd … like you to."

Without a word, without breaking eye contact, Kevin sat down. He positioned himself so that his whole body was facing me. He watched as I positioned myself to do the same. I sat cross-legged on my bed, only a few inches away from him.

He licked his lips. "What do you want to do?"

"You told me to let it out," I replied, my voice even, free of strain. "I've let the tears out, all the tears for the last fifteen years of my life I've let out into my pillow."

I paused, swallowing. He nodded, urging me to continue.

"So now," I said, "now I'm going to let the rest out. All the things that's been bottled up inside me for all those years, I'm going to let it out today."

I reached out to grasp Kevin's arm again. He looks down at my hand, and then back to me again.

"So, I want you to listen to my story. I want to tell you about the reason I wear this hat, and to tell you about what I discovered today that may result in my becoming hatless for the first time."

I forced a chuckle. "Except, well, when it came off at the swimming hole."

He nodded. "Go on, Double D."

I looked at him, examining his face for perverse curiousity, for antipathy, _any_ negative sign. Instead, I only saw sincerity.

A true friend's sincerity.

_Go on, Double D._

_Let it out._

I let go of his arm …

_There is no going back on this._

I closed my eyes momentarily …

_Let it out._

Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and, meeting his gaze, I began:

"When I was only 1 years-old, I was diagnosed with cancer."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **From cliffhanger to cliffhanger, I am utterly terrible. XD

Was this what you guys were expecting at all? This is my theory as to why poor Double D wears that hat. It was somewhat hard to get this down on paper, but I was encouraged by you, my lovely readers, favers and followers out there, to update as soon as possible to reveal DD's conflict/secret. It is thanks to you that I was able to write this at all. :) Take a bow!

But this is only the beginning of DD's troubles …

Reviews are welcome!

*~AI07~* ;)


	7. Going Back To My Roots

**Je Ne Veux Pas Mourrir Toute Seule**

**Chapter 7: Going Back To My Roots**

It was fifteen years ago, in the early morning on a woebegone Wednesday, that I was born. Mother, alone at home when she went into labour, was transported to the hospital after the neighbours called an ambulance. Father was at work, attending an important business meeting – being the top Sales Representative at a reputable company that specialised in school and office stationary, it demanded most, if not all, of his time. By the time Father was notified of the latest development via an emergency telephone call from the hospital, his wife had just been wheeled into the operating theatre, and the Caesarean was about to commence.

Two hours later, Father was directed to the recovery room, where Mother and I were recuperating. He entered the room quietly, gazing at his tired wife, who gazed right back from her bed at her husband. In the crook of her left arm, a blue-blanketed bundle rested there. Coming closer, Father briefly looked at the bundle, and he turned to look at Mother again, as if he was asking for permission. Mother nodded, and she proffered the bundle up to him. Father took the bundle into his arms, gently pulling back the blanket to see his son's face for the first time.

I was a tiny, wrinkled creature, born slightly underweight yet healthy enough to bond with Mother straight away after the C-section. I breathed normally; I reacted to Father's touches even though I was dead to the world, asleep for the first time in my life, and a layer of dark fuzz inhabited the top of my head. I was one of the first batches of babies born at that hospital that day, and it seemed I was no different from any of them – I was just an ordinary newborn, the first child of two ordinary people, whom I brought joy.

Mother and Father had decided on my first and middle names beforehand, as in a month prior to my birth – "Eddward Marion". Father's name is William, denoting his English heritage, and it seemed apt to give me an English-sounding name. He and Mother – Eleanor Anne – finally chose "Edward", though Mother decided on an obscure Dutch variation of the name, named after an equally obscure Dutch great-uncle of hers, and so I became "Eddward", which means "guardian of happiness".

"Marion" essentially means, "star of the sea", and being the first-born, I was the light in the vast emptiness in the childless lives of my parents, the guardian of the happiness that I brought them when I arrived. Of course, they did not take into account the fact that "Marion" was a feminine first name, but then in those days it did not matter.

Those were innocent times, I can tell you. You were only a single person in a million, you considered yourself part of the elite "lucky ones" who had yet to feel the wrath of Tragedy and thus went about life in ignorant bliss, and you pitied those 900 000-plus persons who suffered misfortunes beyond their control.

But then, those individuals probably thought the same about you.

* * *

><p>In my first year, about 16-months-old, I began to have recurrent fevers. My temperature proved to be unusually high, and I was coughing regularly, so much so that I had difficulty breathing and I felt discomfiture in my chest area. Far too young to understand the cause of my ailment, but all too aware of the pain that racked my body, I cried constantly. I could never sleep and I was beginning to lose weight. Mother was worried to death: she was unsatisfied at the doctor's diagnosis that I had a normal fever, that she shouldn't worry if it came back, and she was convinced that his "diagnosis" disguised the fact that he didn't know what was ailing me. Mother repeatedly mentioned to Father about getting a second opinion.<p>

Father wasn't worried at first: it was not unusual for a baby to be ill. It was only when I began to have insistent coughing fits and my body-weight dropped drastically that he started to become worried.

Due to my ill state, my pre-occupied parents were hardly thinking of cutting my hair. It was getting quite long now …

* * *

><p>When they found the lump in my neck when they were rubbing my sore chest one night, Mother walked out of the room without a word. Father took me into his arms, and we walked out after her. Father found Mother in their bedroom.<p>

She was lying on the bed, crying hopelessly into the pillow.

Father sat down beside her, placing me down on the sheets. Curious at seeing Mother being emotional, an unusual sight for any child, I said something in unintelligible infantile language. Mother seemingly deciphered my message, for she paused in her sobbing, lifted herself up and brought me to her chest, holding onto me for dear life.

She ran a hand though my long, dark locks, an action that always comforted me, and likewise comforted Mother.

I had my Mother's hair, if I hadn't mentioned that detail yet.

Mother was proud of that fact.

* * *

><p>Diffuse large B-cell lymphoma.<p>

To put it simply, blood cancer, sir and madam.

_What is it? _Lymphocytes – white-blood cells, cells of the immune system – grow and multiply uncontrollably. B-lymphocytes give rise to lymphoma, and in turn, these lymphoma cells form tumours in the lymph nodes, or glands. The lymphatic system forms part of the immune system, sir and madam. _What are the symptoms? _Swelling in the neck, arm, groin or even in the chest, which causes breathing difficulties and persistent coughing, all caused by enlarged lymph nodes; recurrent fevers, high temperatures, unintentional weight-loss … amongst others, sir and madam. _What causes it? _It's unknown at this time, sir and madam, but an alteration in the immune system or perhaps a faulty gene could possibly be behind it. _Is it common? _It's quite common in men, but it can occur at any age. Young children can get it, though in this case, it's very rare to see a child no more than a year-old to be diagnosed with this disease, sir and madam. _And treatment - what about treatment? _Lymphoma is aggressive, sir and madam – it can spread quickly. To prevent this, treatment must start immediately, sir and madam.

_Chemotherapy? _Yes, sir and madam, chemotherapy is preferable, and it's safe. It will eliminate the risk of the cancer returning. _Will it work? _Sir and madam, it _will _work. The only thing that will be lost is _not_ the life, but probably just the hair.

Mother had cried for hours when she heard that.

* * *

><p>Is it strange to say that I have a faint memory of being surrounded by strangers?<p>

I recall constant movement around me, an unfamiliar heaviness in my arm as they pumped drugs into my tiny body. But then, it's all a blur to me, for often I was overcome by periods of intense tiredness. My skin itched with rashes, and when I cried for Mother and Father I was too weak to lift my arms – even if I tried, the heaviness in my arm would hinder me greatly.

I continued to cry, wanting to hear my parents' voices, to feel their reassuring touches. When someone responded by placing a hand on the top of my head, I cried even louder, for their skin was cold and felt alien to me.

Sad it was, for the loss of my hair no longer enabled me to even distinguish Mother and Father from those strangers. I could not tell who was touching – trying to soothe – me.

The treatment continued for a few months.

* * *

><p>There was a resting period before my last round of treatment. Mother and Father sat with me in my hospital room. Sitting in Father's lap, leaning back into his touch for I was too weak and sick – I could feel the soft material of his winter jersey rubbing against my cold, bare head – I watched with tired eyes as Mother reached behind her back and brought a packaged gift-box into my sight. My eyes suddenly widened – box means presents. Any child could understand that.<p>

Mother pushed the present towards me, into my little hands. Slowly I ripped off the paper, taking my time. Underneath the paper, the box was plain cardboard. Father lifted the lid off the box for me, and he reached in and pulled out something that I could not identify.

When Father gave it to me, I stared at it, feeling the soft black material. Two white lines ran through the material. Mother lifted the thing out of my hands and without warning placed it on my head. I was about to pull it off when I realised that my head was no longer cold – instead, it was warm.

It was the only hat, a ski-hat, that my parents could find that could be comfortable for a little child like me to wear during the cold season, especially with my skin that suffered the side effects of the treatment. When Mother and Father patted my covered head, I felt like I was no longer assaulted by strangers with alien hands.

It was a lovely gift. The fact that my second-birthday was only _after_ the last round of treatment did not occur to me. After all, I was young, and I wouldn't understand what this time, these precious moments, meant for my parents.

* * *

><p>The last round of treatment had begun.<p>

Again, I shed some tears, crying for my parents and comforted by unfamiliar persons.

Mother and Father were outside somewhere, clutching my hat, praying to some Higher Power, and crying for me, too.

_Please … will this work?_

* * *

><p>The treatment has been successful, sir and madam. The lymphoma has been successfully eliminated, and thus unlikely to return. <em>What happens now? <em>Of course, the child will have to come for regular check-ups, but only for a few weeks, sir and madam. _What about going home? _Yes, yes, of course, sir and madam. Returning to a comfortable home environment is desirable. The child can stay overnight at the hospital and return home the following day, sir and madam. _Will the hair grow back, and when?_ The hair usually grows back after about three months, sir and madam. In the meantime, the child can make use of the ski hat – it's still quite cold weather out there. As long as the child keeps warm, sir and madam.

* * *

><p>I was two-years-old. It had been a month or so after I was discharged from the hospital. Mother and Father threw me a surprise party. All of their friends from their social circle, along with their own brood, celebrated with us.<p>

The only thing I can remember about the event was when I burst into tears when an older adolescent pulled off my hat, and the other children were cackling, roaring with laughter at my expense.

At the time, I was more upset about my beloved headgear being taken from me – it didn't register that the children were probably laughing at my hairless cranium.

But then, I was too young to understand, and I was not yet old enough to feel embarrassment. After all, _was _I _supposed_ to be embarrassed about my hair loss?

* * *

><p>The second month after the treatment, I uttered my earliest constructed sentence – as in, I said my first official words. "Mama" and "Dada" were already part of my soon-to-be-vast vocabulary, and those terms of endearment came naturally to every toddler, so I personally don't consider them my first words.<p>

It was a chilly spring late afternoon, and Mother – after collecting me from the day-care centre once she had left work – was giving me a bath, gently massaging my scalp; Father was still at work, labouring over a presentation and project. He was the one who normally fetched me, but because of his work commitments, he had called Mother to bring me home instead.

I turned to look up at her and said, "Mama, how come I don't have hair like you and Dada and all the other boys and girls?"

Mother paused in the massage, pursing her lips as she considered the question I put forward to her. I patiently waited for her answer.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out – no response to my unsettling enquiry; not a sound issued forth, so she simply closed it and continued on washing me, carefully avoiding my head area.

Mother later confided in Father, when he came home that night, about her uncertainties, and the sooner my hair grew back, the better … life can go on like normal again. The strain was getting to her, and Father did not know what to do to calm her, except to remind her that there was only one month to go.

* * *

><p>The third month had long since passed, flying by us without acknowledgement.<p>

It left Mother distraught, Father troubled and I … well, I had my own set of infantile difficulties. My peers at the day-care centre constantly poked fun at my hairlessness, and they kept their distance from me, unable to bear my "strangeness".

My hat proved to be my only companion, one that emanated warmth, protected me from the harsh elements (and I'm not just talking about the weather conditions) and it contained my secret of the cause of aforementioned hairlessness, a cause which I had yet to comprehend. I did not yet know about my previous brush with cancer, but in all honesty, it's too complicated to explain to a two-year-old about "lymphoma" and "cancer".

The only thing Mother and Father made clear to me was that I was a special child, and both my hat and my baldness were my constant reminders of that fact, lest I forget.

* * *

><p>My hair was not growing back.<p>

Not a single string of hair – not a curl, not a tress, not a strand, not even a wisp – appeared after three months of waiting.

Mother eagerly waited to see a familiar dark tuft sprout out of my cranium, but day by day, she was met with disappointment when she could not locate a single thread.

By the end of the month, Mother's hopes were on the brink of fading away.

* * *

><p>Hair loss, sir and madam, is usually temporary: as mentioned before, hair growth takes place <em>about <em>after three months. In this case, however, after examining the affected head area, it is rather unfortunate that the chemotherapy has caused … an undesirable alteration in the process of protein synthesis, which results in hair growth, sir and madam. _Was does this mean? _Unfortunately, this means that the hair loss is permanent, but only in the head area – that in itself means, sir and madam, the child will be unable to grow back hair.

_There is nothing to do about it? _Regrettably, no, sir and madam. Better hold onto that ski-hat, sir and madam.

Mother and Father cried together the moment we got home, mourning the loss of their hopes to regain normality for themselves and their son.

* * *

><p>As I became older – I was two-and-a-half-years-old – I became more aware of my "special" status, and to how other children responded to it. I have lost count of the times I came home from the day-care centre, so silent, ignoring my parents' probing questions about my day and bottling up my tears.<p>

Mother and Father found out the hard way – a telephone call by the woman in charge of the day-care centre, inviting them to a private meeting. Mother and Father left work and came straight to the centre at collecting time. Whilst the woman talked to my parents, I took the opportunity and contented myself by playing with some of the day-care centre toys, playthings that were always denied to me by the older children. In their eyes, I didn't deserve to touch their toy treasure trove, claiming I'd make their dolls and action figures lose their hair.

After the talk, we departed for home, and immediately once we stepped through the front door, Mother and Father fought in front of me for the first time.

I was scared – it was certainly a frightening spectacle that unfolded: seeing Mother and Father going for each other, raising their voices and screaming so loud that could barely hear themselves speaking. Blame was placed on each other, spiteful words were whipped out and their true feelings came to the surface. They would have probably come to blows if not for the fact that I chose the time to whimper out the question:

"Are you fighting because of me?"

My voice was so soft in comparison to their screeching, but it was astounding how my parents managed to hear me over the din. They stopped in their verbal attacks instantly, and they turned to look at me, as if they just became aware of my presence. Gone were the angry expressions on their countenances, now replaced with blatant shame. I only picked at my hat with nervousness.

They sat me down on the sofa, and they explained in the easiest way they could about my bout with cancer for about an hour or so. They told me that I was once sick, that I could not have hair because of it, but I was their "special child" and they loved me no less.

"The other boys and girls … I don't think they like me."

Mother and Father hugged me tightly to their chests – they loved me, and that's all that mattered.

* * *

><p>More than a month after that incident, the house was put on the market, and the house was purchased in no time, for the winter season was fast approaching, and our house was winter-tolerable at the most. Not enough to keep me warm, but it had done its duty for the family.<p>

Mother and Father repeatedly mentioned the name "Peach Creek": from excerpts from their conversations, however few that occurred between them now, I learnt about this "Peach Creek", a small town with a close-knit community, highly regarded education institutions and a place where private lives were just that – private. Discrimination seemed unlikely, and, coupled with the good weather conditions, it was the perfect place to be normal.

Father requested a transfer to the Peach Creek branch of the company, though this meant he was no longer the Sales Representative of the company, but now in charge of the department that dealt with the production of sticky-notes.

Mother gave up her job at a local optometrist practice, though she was able to find a similar position at a pharmacy in Peach Creek, lending her services as an assistant optometrist, keeping track of the selling and buying of spectacles from manufacturers, and filling out prescriptions.

When I innocently asked why we were moving away, Mother and Father had informed me that they thought that a change of environment would do me the world of good, that a change of pace was greatly needed. I could not register the feeling of guilt, which I feel now years later because my parents had given up their careers and opportunities – their _lives_ – for the sake of my health.

It is heart-rending to think about: Mother and Father built up a stable life for themselves over the years, yet it all came crashing down the moment I entered their lives with a foul disease. I was supposed to be the star that safely guided them as they navigated on troubled waters …

… instead, I had sunk their ship.

How could I be the guardian of my parents' happiness when there was none left in their relationship?

* * *

><p>The night before we were to depart for Peach Creek, I crept out of my bed and I tiptoed to the bathroom. Balancing myself on a specially made, toddler-friendly footstool, I looked at my reflection in the mirror, and solemnly I pulled off my hat.<p>

I regarded my bare head with child-like simplicity. Frankly, I couldn't see anything _wrong _with having no hair, so why did all the other children kick up such a fuss about it?

Nevertheless, I resolved there and then that the moment we arrived in Peach Creek, I was not going to be ashamed about my hairlessness. I was ill once, yes, but I came out triumphant – my hair loss was just a small price to pay.

Surely the Peach Creek children would understand this? Perhaps they wouldn't be like the kids here …

* * *

><p>I paused, leaving the sentence incomplete. Up until now, it never occurred to me that I was fiddling with the tail-end of my hat throughout the recollection, something that I did when I was in extremely nervous circumstances. Perhaps I was too caught up in my narrative …<p>

… or maybe because I was looking at Kevin the entire time, without breaking eye contact, aware of his full attention and nothing else.

Kevin remained unspoken throughout my account, listening attentively and so focused on the words that rolled out of my mouth. The moment I stopped talking, I was all too conscious of the heavy silence in my quarters. It was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, though I expected to hear Kevin say something right away.

Instead, Kevin regarded me seriously with an expression that was a mixture of empathy and understanding. I could see that I didn't need to repeat myself on any points so far. I continued:

"After I met Ed and Eddy and became associated with them, I didn't think that they would _ever _be able to comprehend what I've been through. Given Eddy's volatility and Ed's simple nature, I don't know how they would handle it."

I bit my bottom lip precariously. "And anyway, I didn't want to lose our friendship. Of course, because of our camaraderie and our antics, we had earned ourselves an unpleasant reputation. The children here … they didn't care for us, and on that basis alone I was unable to build up the courage to tell them about my illness. They thought us strange enough already, especially about my hat-wearing, and to show them what the illness did to me, what lies underneath my hat … well, I imagine they would probably think me _stranger_."

"So for years on end, you've suffered quietly and hadn't said a word, 'cause you were afraid we would think you were a freak?" said Kevin softly, his eyes widening. "How could you go on like this?"

"It was an effort," I replied, adjusting my hat, "but to safeguard myself, I did what I could to keep my secret undisclosed. I am never seen without my hat, as you very well know, and I tell myself to ignore the jeers of the children when something goes terribly awry. 'Keep on being strong,' I will tell myself constantly. 'Keep on going strong, because you can do no wrong' – my little mantra, if you will."

"Does that work?"

"Sometimes, but most of the time not always," I replied, flushing a little. "More often than not, not always."

Kevin raised an eyebrow in response. Shifting his body somewhat, he asked quietly, "So what are you going to do now? I won't tell anybody what you just told me, you can trust me on that, but bro, I don't think it's a good idea to keep this to yourself anymore."

I sighed, looking away. "I understand your concern, Kevin, but I don't think I am capable to do anything about this business at the moment."

"It has to come out some time."

"What makes you says so sure?"

Instead of answering the question, Kevin suddenly leaned forward, entering my personal space and gradually raising his arm. Before I could react, I felt my hat being tugged off my head, and my cranium was exposed. I gasped as Kevin, cupping my chin with his other hand, turned my face to the side. A twinge of pain ran through me as slender fingers pulled on my new lock of hair.

With a small moan of protest, I looked at Kevin out of my peripheral vision.

Meeting my gaze, Kevin offered a wry smile as he answered, "'Cause when your hair grows back, the hat _has _to come off – and when you're ready to tell everyone, I'll be there – and trust me, I'll be telling you 'I told you so' because I told you how happy you'd be once it all comes out. I'll _make _sure that happens – that you're happy, I mean."

His smile broadened, practically glowing.

From sideways, I smiled right back.

* * *

><p>At that moment, all those months ago, I thought myself right to place my trust into Kevin, the star on my new horizons – the guardian who would secure my happiness. Like my hair growing back, I was going to start anew.<p>

However, it was Mother and Father's news that suddenly extinguished my hopes and made me think that the last fifteen years was nothing but a waste of time.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **An update, omigosh! Moreover, a LONG (boring) one to boot! How could I have written such drivel as a response to all the lovely reviews from y'all, the faves and the fact I have now over 100 followers for this story?! It's amazing, I can tell you – to have suddenly thought this story up whilst in the shower two years ago (yes, I did) and to get this far … wow. :D

I gather that you know that this chapter is partly a flashback of Double D and it gives us some of his background and some info about his parents. I have my reasons for choosing their names, and I actually looked up what Double D's names meant – to justify why Double D's name is spelt "Eddward" is also explained. I'm just gonna assume that his parents have some marriage issues (see that Christmas episode – they sleep in separate beds, for crying out loud!), even before he was born and intensified after the cancer, and they chose his names because … oh, see DD's explanation.

But, I'm giving too much information and boring you with hidden underlying messages – just what IS wrong with Double D?

Reviews are welcome!

*~AI07~* ;)


	8. Friend or Foe

**Je Ne Veux Pas Mourrir Toute Seule**

**Chapter 8: Friend or Foe**

"What I don't understand," said Kevin, again pulling on my lock of hair, "is why your hair is starting to grow back after all these years. Why now?"

I sighed, more out of concurrence than out of protest at the tugging of my hair. "That question has occurred to me, though personally, it's more a question of "how" instead of "why". The doctor told my parents that the hair loss was _permanent_. So what _has_ caused my body to suddenly produce hair?"

"Man, you're asking the wrong person," replied Kevin, grinning sheepishly. "I'm not great at Science."

"More Biology than Science, Kevin, and it was a rhetorical question," I said, though not of spite. I pulled my hat towards me, rubbing my fingertips over the soft black material. "I am certainly bemused that my hair is now starting to grow back, but I am certainly more ecstatic at the prospect of attaining some form of normality at long last."

Another sheepish grin from Kevin. "Yeah, I didn't catch that last bit you were saying."

It was my turn to look embarrassed. "What I meant to say is that I'm happy about finally becoming normal, what with the hair-growth."

"Oh. Well, that was easier to say, wasn't it?"

I looked down at my hat, trying not to meet Kevin's gaze in case I blushed. "It is certainly difficult for someone like me to simplify my complex vocabulary. When you're surrounded by characters like Ed and Eddy – and it may sound offending – one tries to raise one's self intellectually to maintain sanity."

"Uh …"

"I mean, be smart and not silly," I explained, feeling my skin burn.

"Oh," said Kevin again, nodding. "Hanging around those dorks _does_ make you feel smarter, huh?"

I grimaced, inwardly bristling at the use of the word "dorks". Never would Kevin ever miss the opportunity to refer to my group with this label. He had a fondness for this word, a newly formed collective noun that formed part of his every-day vocabulary. As I have mentioned before, when I was in the company of my comrades, Kevin certainly had no patience for us. However, Kevin and I got on just fine when I was alone. Despite our amity, a part of me believed that Kevin was being unfair and a tad hypocritical: it is one thing to get along as if you were the best of friends, and another when your friend suddenly turns your back on you without hesitation when you are in someone else's company.

But then, another part of me was willing to forgive Kevin. Being the well-liked jock with a solid reputation can be quite demanding. He had his own set of friends, who readily disliked my troupe. In addition, the Eds are notorious for their frequent scams and their imbecility, and often that entailed danger, of which Kevin often found himself on the receiving end. He has been injured on many occasions, and his bike has had to undergo repairs time after time, all because of our ordeals. To be seen on speaking terms with us and face possible harm is a social death wish. It was somewhat expected of Kevin to live up to the image of the popular sports star, and there was no way that Kevin would risk compromising his reputation.

Besides, Kevin and I were very different from one another. I, the punctual and brilliant student, was not inclined towards anything to do with physical activity and the mainstream ideas of the "cool kid" image. Likewise, Kevin was not particularly outstanding in academics, not on the same level of intellect as yours truly. Up until this point, he never truly understood me. I was an anomaly, and associating with the Eds just got me grouped into – you guessed it – "dorks". I suppose, in a way, that I am a complex individual on another wavelength.

_Yet somehow, we were drawn to one another …_

_The same way that I was drawn to Ed and Eddy …_

"Are you going to tell them?"

"Hmm?" I looked up at Kevin, furrowing my eyebrows.

"I said, are you going to tell them?" Kevin repeated resolutely, crossing his arms.

"Tell who what?" I queried, frowning, though I knew full-well what he was asking me.

Kevin sighed, staring into my olive-green eyes with his own light-green orbs. "Are you going to tell Ed and Eddy about the hair growing back?"

I shifted nervously on my bed, finally managing a soft, "Kevin, did we not just talk about this …?"

"Yeah, about everyone else knowing, but we didn't talk about the Eds," he said, his arms still crossed. "I think they need to know, back you up and stuff."

"Well, I _did_ try to tell them earlier," I conceded, biting my lip again, "but they were not exactly attentive. They were more concerned about their pizza party that they … _curses!_"

"Double D, what's the matter?" cried Kevin, surprised at my exclamation, which prompted me to jump off the bed and onto my feet. He stared at the worried expression that graced my features. "Why'd you scream like that?"

"_The pizza party!_" I exclaimed, slapping my forehead. "I completely forgot about it! They invited me over to make pizza and –" I glanced at my watch and gasped " - I'm an _hour and a half late_! Oh, curse my inability to remember such simple occasions!"

"Hey, calm down, Double D," said Kevin, jumping off the bed and placing a cold hand on my shoulder in an attempt to placate me. "No reason to go into panic mode. It's not like they'll hunt you down because you forgot."

"Oh, you don't know Eddy," I said miserably, thinking of Eddy's words before he departed: _Just make sure you turn up at my house in an hour …_

"An hour and a half ago?" Kevin suddenly said, looking thoughtful. Glancing at my watch, he furrowed his eyebrows with a frown. "It's half-past four, so you had to meet them at 3."

He looked at me, tilting his head in bemusement. "Were you supposed to meet them when you came over to the creek?"

I gulped, positively sure that my face was now crimson-coloured. When I met Kevin at the creek, he had questioned that I was able to meet him at all, seeing that Eddy had wanted to call me away from him when he was talking to me and had invited me to the creek. I had convinced Kevin that I did not care that Eddy would be angry if he knew where I was, but I had neglected to tell Kevin that Eddy had already invited me to his pizza-making session, which I had to show up at despite the time conflict.

Kevin seemed to have figured this out, for he let out a low whistle before I could respond and he said, with wide eyes, "Whoa, Eddy is gonna explode when he hears about this. Skipping out pizza for me isn't gonna go down well with him."

I could only groan in light of this statement.

And I groaned again when the resounding _ding-dong! _of the doorbell occurred and an extremely loud voice screamed, "Double D! If you're in here, open up!"

"Trick or treat!" exclaimed another voice gleefully.

My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach, and raw fear took full control of my person when I realised that Ed and Eddy were at the front door of my house.

_Ding-dong!_

"Oh dear!" I cried, grabbing my hat and quickly pulling it over my head. "It's _them_! They'll want to know where I've been all this time."

"So? Just tell them that something came up," Kevin offered. His gaze fell on my head, upon which my hat sat at an aggravating, skew angle. "Better yet, tell them that your hair is growing back."

_Ding-dong!_

"Are you crazy?" I replied, turning on Kevin in a frenzy. "I'm doubtful that Eddy will let me get a word out before verbally assaulting me. He'll have my head on a platter and feed my body to the dogs when he finds out where I've been all this time. He's _that_ ruthless."

_Ding-dong!_

I glanced in the direction of the front door with a grimace, and I turned back to look at Kevin with pleading eyes. "I can't face them," I whispered pathetically. "I'm too scared. _He'll_ tear me to pieces, and I'm telling you the honest truth. He _will_, you know."

_DING-DONG! _"Double D! Get out here!"_ DING-DONG! DING-DONG!_

Kevin also glanced in the other direction, listening to Eddy's incessant screaming. Again, he looked thoughtful, and it only worsened my fears than comforted me.

_When Kevin was thinking, you know something awful was bound to happen, and I know from experience._

"Kevin?"

The jock looked at me and, wordlessly, he clutched me at my elbow.

"Kevin?" I asked again, puzzled. "What are you doing?"

He merely shrugged before he answered me, the response failing to assuage me: "You're gonna talk to them, and _I'm_ coming with you."

I was stunned, and my heart sunk even further at his revelation. "What?"

"You heard me," replied Kevin, pulling me by the elbow towards my bedroom door, towards the shouts and screams.

I pulled myself out of his grip, beyond frantic and frightened. "You can't let me do this, Kevin. I'll just about die on the spot, and Eddy will lynch you senselessly. _Please_ don't do this."

"_We_ have to do this," said Kevin, resolutely. He gestured towards the noise. "They're not gonna go away anytime soon, by the sounds of things. _We_ have to face up him sometime, Double D. If he wants an explanation, then fine, _we'll_ give him one."

"You keep saying "we"," I noted softly, feeling a sudden burst of warmth erupt in my body along the hanging fear. "Eddy isn't your problem. Why do you insist on using the term "we"? Why are you intent on facing him with me?"

A small pause, constantly interrupted by Eddy's ear-splitting exclamations.

Kevin fixed the angle on his red cap, before he reached out and fixed the angle of my hat, which was now (thankfully) straight, and nonchalantly answered my query:

"Because I'm your friend, Double D, and that's what friends do. After all, _I'm_ the one who got you into trouble."

Such a simple statement, said in an equally simple tone of voice, yet as I interpreted the information, the words – the _meanings_ behind them – affected me heavily:

_Because I'm your friend, Double D, and that's what friends do. After all, I'm the one who got you into trouble …_

As the warmth burst into bloom within me, taking on the fear, I was rendered silent and stunned at the same time, still repeating the words to myself to notice Kevin, foe of the Eds, grabbing me by the elbow once more and guiding me out my bedroom and into the hallway towards the front door to confront my friends.

It occurred to me, in my stunned state, that Ed and Eddy have never said anything along those the lines of what Kevin told me … ever.

* * *

><p>But then, as I reflect on these past events and return to the present matter at hand, which I have yet to reveal, I wonder if Ed and Eddy will say something like that to me now when they find out about the news …<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **My, what a lazy person I am, and another cliffhanger to boot - shame on me. ;) Thanks again to you all for reviewing, faving, following or even reading this lil' humble story of mine. I hope to heck that I'll get it done soon, because Double D's secret is killing me!

Named this chapter after the t.A.T.u song "Friend or Foe", which I thought fitting to describe/contrast the friendship between DD and Kevin, and the rivalry 'tween Kevin and the Eds. Go figure. Expect fireworks in the next chapter!

Reviews are welcome!

*~AI07~* ;)


End file.
